


Hair

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Crossover, Hair Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-22
Updated: 2011-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-23 22:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius finds himself at Rahl's mercy – but he has something Darken desires above all else; his luscious locks</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hair

**Author's Note:**

> For the [seeker-kinkmeme](http://seeker-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/) prompt: Lucius (Harry Potter)/Darken, hair kink

He was no stranger to magic, and this world had, at first seemed like paradise, where a powerful wizard could rule the muggle population without any bureaucrats or bleeding hearts to intervene.

Except that _woman_ , the red leather clad demon, had taken his staff, his beloved wand. She'd broken it over one knee like it was some fallen tree branch and not his most precious possession. Her own wand – an agiel, he now knew it was called – was stubby and red and unmistakably phallic. It also hurt, a lot. His throat was still raw from his screams when she finally brought him before Lord Rahl.

Rahl listened to the woman's report and gazed dismissively at him.

"Where exactly are you from?"

Later, Lucius could barely remember what he'd said. He was certain that his best hope of survival was to convince this man that he was valuable, and he rambled at length.

"Magic?" Rahl leaned forward at that.

Lucius hung his head. Without his wand, his magic was limited, unfocussed. "I fear I need time to perfect my skills. The rules of this world are different to my own." He swallowed hard.

"Shall I take him to the dungeon, Lord Rahl?"

Rahl stood – not as tall as he appeared when seated – and paced around Lucius, intelligent blue eyes boring, it seemed, into his very soul. Lucius felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He almost yelped when Rahl's fingers brushed past his hair and grazed the skin at his collarbone.

"Take him to the bath house," Rahl had said at last. "There may be value under this unpromising exterior."

* * *

  


If he hadn't been so afraid of the Mord'Sith he might have enjoyed his bath more. Lucius had been stripped and scrubbed and rinsed until his skin was clean and smooth. Then one of them, a copper skinned beauty with her long hair piled atop her head, approached him with a jar of unguent.

She must have seen his petrified expression for she gave a throaty laugh. "It's for your hair, pretty one," she said. Lucius relaxed then, the soothing waters lapping around his naked body as she took handfuls of the viscous stuff and applied it to his tangled locks. No-one, none of the servants, not even Narcissa, had washed his hair since he'd been of an age to shampoo it himself. There was an intimacy to the ritual that magical cleaning lacked, and Lucius kept this pleasure for himself alone. Even his barber never touched the hair more than was necessary, using magical combs and spelled scissors to carefully trim away dead ends, never daring to touch Lucius's hair with his own fingers.

All his concerns about privacy were gone now. Better this than the dirt and leaves and knots.

The Mord'Sith was massaging the scented cream into his scalp in a way that made heat gather in his belly. It occurred to him that every Mord'Sith wore their hair long, usually tightly braided. Several of the women were currently lounging on the poolside, their own flowing locks loose about their shoulders.

"You are privileged," the woman said from behind him.

"How so?" Lucius didn't feel privileged. He was completely at Rahl's mercy. He was, however, no stranger to submissiveness to a worthy master.

"This preparation is costly," she said, fingers rubbing the unguent along the length of his hair now. "Full of rare spices and oils, touched with magic. It is usually for Lord Rahl alone. Possibly his most favoured Mistress might be permitted a handful, but rarely."

Why then waste such a thing upon a wretched prisoner? Lucius thought he knew the answer to that. At least, unlike Voldemort, Rahl was a handsome man.

After his hair was rinsed over and over, he was given a towel and made to sit at the poolside. A servant girl knelt at his side and brushed his hair. Lucius tensed, expecting the brush to catch on a tangle almost immediately, but to his surprise the bristles slid smoothly through his hair.

After a sensuous half an hour Lucius was glad of the towel and kept his hands folded over his lap. Somehow he thought the Mord'Sith respected only one man, their Lord Rahl, and it would please them greatly to punish any man stepping out of line within their sacred pool. And any outward sign of his own arousal might well be stepping out of line, though Merlin knew the bathing beauties spent plenty of time rubbing at their own and each other's bodies, and exchanging kisses. He was certain one of them, a tall blonde with ruby red lips, had been pleasuring herself in one corner of the pool, her eyes closing at the same time she gave a single deep moan of pleasure, before she dipped briefly below the waters.

A heap of clothes were thrown unceremoniously into his lap.

"Dress," yet another Mord'Sith ordered.

Lucius pulled on the clothes. A vest of some sort, and a flowing red robe. No underwear. No shoes. He lifted his hair over the soft material, unable to contain a small gasp. His platinum hair shone like polished silver and it was feather light and soft as silk. He arranged it gently around his shoulders.

"Come," he was told, and he meekly followed the leather-clad woman through the maze of stone corridors, trying without success to memorise the path they took.

 

It was no surprise that he was taken to Lord Rahl's bedchamber. Darken was lounging on the bed, a smile lifting the corners of his sensuous mouth.

"Well, well. So there was a prince beneath the pauper."

Lucius kept his own mouth shut, quelling the urge to complain that he'd been merely ruffled by his unexpected travel through the portal, and that it was the fault of the Mord'Sith who'd captured him that he'd been so bedraggled by the time he stood in front of his new master.

"Come. Sit." Darken tapped the red velvet covers and Lucius moved to obey. The man loved red, that was obvious. It rankled a little, a reminder of the hated Gryffindor house.

"You have such beautiful hair, Lucius."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"It most fortunate that the portal you spoke of dropped you into my realm."

"Yes, my Lord."

Darken lifted a strand of Lucius's platinum hair and dragged it through his fingers. Lucius fought a shudder, though he could no longer say if it was pleasure or fear that sent chills through his body.

Darken leant in close, sniffing at the scented locks. Lucius stayed still.

"Let me braid it," Darken whispered.

"Of course, my lord."

Another half hour or so of hair brushing followed. Darken took great delight in brushing the feather light locks, pausing often to inhale the exotic scents that the unguent had imbued it with. Then his fingers worked quickly to separate the hair into three equal portions and deftly plaited them over and over each other. A ribbon – red, of course – was tied at the base and then Darken clasped Lucius's chin in one hand.

"Beautiful," he said huskily.

Lucius nodded mutely. He wasn't surprised when Darken kissed him, nor when one hand found Lucius's knee and then slid beneath the robe and up his thigh.

"You will brush my hair now," Darken said suddenly, pulling back. Confused, aroused, and not a little rejected, Lucius found himself with a brush in his hand and Darken's back to him.

Hesitantly, Lucuis dragged the brush through Rahl's own dark locks. Ebony, save where the firelight turned his hair russet like the last rays of sunset against the darkening sky. Soft and smooth, not so long as his own, but still gorgeous.

Impulsively, Lucius lifted a lock of hair over the brush and dipped his head to press his lips to the exposed flesh of Darken's neck. Darken stilled, and Lucius paused, afraid he had displeased his new master.

"Continue," Darken said, voice a touch unsteady, and Lucius began brushing again.

* * *

  
When Lucius awoke the next morning, he was alone. He was naked and his hair, loose once more, was spread over the pillows. He yawned and sat up. A Mord'Sith was staring at him, her lip curled in a sneer.

"I am to take you out riding," she said. "And to bring you back clean and suitably attired in time for dinner with Lord Rahl."

Lucius smirked back at her. She was radiating jealously. Clearly Darken often sampled the flesh of the women under his protection. He was special though, wasn't he, a favoured pet at least, an honoured concubine at best. He could work with that.

"I will be ready shortly," he said, sliding, naked from beneath the silken sheets. "I will take breakfast before we depart the castle."

She glared at him, took three steps forward, her boots sounding heavily on the flagstones. Her eyes were locked on his own, not on his lithe body, and Lucius was a little disappointed in that.

"There are many things you do not know of this world, false wizard," she hissed. She lifted a lock of hair from his bare shoulder, tugging on it with her gloved hand just until the point of pain.

"For example?" Lucius asked, keeping his voice calm.

"When one of the Sisterhood betrays us, we punish her. We cut off her pretty hair and cast her from our sight." The Mord'Sith wound his hair around her fingers, pulling harder until several strands pulled loose from his scalp. "Lord Rahl might not find you so delectable without your long tresses. Watch your step."

She released him, strode to the door. "Breakfast is served in the main hall. Take the first left at the end of the hall, and the second right after that." Then she left him, slamming the heavy wooden door behind her.

Lucius shivered and quickly pulled on a new set of clothes that had been left by the side of the bed. He debated whether to tie his hair back – more practical for riding, but easier for the damn Mord'Sith to cut off – or to wear it loose. He was going to have to ask Darken for a hat, he decided, to protect his precious hair when it was not being the object of adoration.

He found a slim dagger under the clothes, a clear sign that Darken trusted him. Lucius touched the cold steel to his lips briefly, wondering if he might slice the bitch's braid off with this blade, and thus cause her to be expelled from the Sisterhood. He may be submissive to Lord Rahl, but no longer to these wenches. He was Lord Rahl's favoured, and he was going to milk it for all he was worth.

He slid the dagger into his boot and smiled.


End file.
